There was a thump on the window.

Then, the crack of glass.

Ivory dropped to the floor; covering her head with her arms as shards rained down on her flesh. Small fragments of glass dug into the palms of her hands. Ivory let out a silent scream; hands reaching blindly for some sort of weapon. There was nothing. Blood ran down Ivory's fingers and dripped onto the floor.

Katherin had stepped backwards as shards of glass became bullets. Her hands were shaking; her head spinning as she tried to process the truth of the situation.

This was it.

This was how they'd die.

The figure was working its way through the window. Katherin could tell that it wasn't a rebel survivor looking to raid supplies. People didn't move like that; the shadowed figure jerked awkwardly as they pried the wooden boards from the window.

The zombies had found their shelter, and they'd already broken in.

Katherin grasped behind her; fingers fumbling to lock the wooden door. They needed to board themselves in. If they died here, Katherin wouldn't let the others be a victim too.

The apartment was completely bland, except for Katherin's saving grace. An expensive samurai sword hung above the television.

Katherin just had to reach it before the zombies reached Ivory.

The zombies moved in sporadic jerks, but their gait was eerily like human beings when dormant. Katherin had seen it in the fog. The zombies had seemed almost human until they'd torn at Rebeka's flesh.

But that's what they were. Weren't they?

A hand latched onto the drape and tore it to the side. Sunlight spilled through the room; blinding whiteness assaulting their vision. Katherin winced. Ivory froze. Neither of them had experienced sunlight for months. They'd been too afraid to look at the horrors outside.

The zombie was mutilated. Grotesque cists covered their jawline and chest. Hair had begun to sprout from their knuckles; long grey tendrils that hung limply from their fingers.

Blood had been smeared across the zombie's face; the crusty remains of a heavy nosebleed, or maybe, a previous feed. Wrinkles of skin had forced their eyes closed; as if they were a mouse, only a few hours after their birth.

There was a stab wound through the stomach of the zombie, but it didn't seem to bother them.

Brown blood had clotted in chunks on their shirt. The wound must have been a week or so old.

The zombie would have been a prepubescent girl before they had turned. A pastel pink scrunchie held the remains of the little girl's brown hair into a bun. Her ballet shoes were muddy and scuffed at the toes.

The zombie clamoured over the window and onto the carpet.

Katherin bolted across the room for the sword.

Ivory scrambled to her feet.

The zombie wheezed; breath strained as it stood up.

Katherin grabbed the sword and tugged. It didn't give.

The hilt was bolted to the frame.

Katherin tugged again; her hands wrapped around the hilt in one last feeble attempt.

The zombie cocked its head.

Then, it ran.

Katherin let go of the sword. She dropped to the floor. The zombie tripped over Katherin's hunched body and went sprawling to the floor. Blood splattered across the floor as their nose was crushed.

Katherin's heart was pounding. Her pulse hammered beneath her eyes; black spots dancing in her vision. Had she hit her head?

Katherin couldn't remember.

The zombie pushed itself upwards; staggering slightly as it jerked around. They locked eyes.

The zombie charged again. Katherin ran towards it; tackling it to the ground. Her hands fumbled to the knife in her back pocket. She had only wanted to use it as a last resort.

The knife clattered to the floor behind her.

Katherin narrowly avoided the zombie's hand; overgrown nails groping for the soft flesh on her face. Their mouth was open. Katherin could smell the stench of decay; rotting teeth and human flesh.

The zombie would eat Katherin alive, just as she'd seen happen to Rebeka.

This was her punishment.

There was urgent banging on the door. The others had heard the commotion.

Katherin needed to buy them some time. They needed to run away again; to start over in another place. It wasn't safe here anymore.

The zombie let out a blood-curdling scream.

Then, it slumped to the floor.

Its decapitated head rolled across the room.

Ivory stood in front of Katherin. She held the knife that Katherin had lost in her confrontation. Blood dripped from the blade and ran down Ivory's hand. It was a thick brown, not red; as if the zombie had been dead for months.

They looked only at each other for a moment.

Then, Ivory ran to the window; retching loudly as she upheaved her previous meal. 

Hi everyone! 

How did you find this chapter? I find it very difficult to write action scenes without getting distracted by imagery. My style of writing is very much long and flowing sentences. 

Do any of you frequent the Wattpad Forums? 

Happy reading x